


luminous beings that we are

by illinois_e



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Percy Jackson Fusion, Everyone is an idiot, Fluff and Smut, Idiots in Love, M/M, as always, sehun never listen to his hyungs, side KrisHo, son of aphrodite!jongin, son of hades!sehun, very minor chansoo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-22 00:29:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11368809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illinois_e/pseuds/illinois_e
Summary: The heart wants what it wants. In Jongin’s case, it wants the scary-looking but soft-hearted son of Hades, Oh Sehun.





	luminous beings that we are

**Author's Note:**

> for prompt **#10141**
> 
> in my defense i've never ever thought about writing a percy jackson!au so this is vastly uncharted territory for me. still, this fic was incredibly fun to write, even though i had literal headaches writing the smut (i'm just bad at it sorry). maybe this isn't exactly how you wanted, dear prompter, but i really hope you like it!
> 
> also, all my love to f., a. and j. — i would never be able to post this without you guys

Campfire time is always the best time of the day if you’re a great singer, if you’re drunk and can pretend that the flames are actually dancing — and the children of Hermes can easily provide to that —, or if you’re popular enough to be surrounded by friends singing very loudly at your ears. Sehun, unfortunately, was none of these.

This did not mean that he couldn’t appreciate an hour of listening to Baekhyun and Jongdae leading the chant of “I Am My Own Great-Great-Great-Great Grandpa” for the fourth time on the week—and it was only Monday. It was just that it definitely wasn’t the highlight of his day—seeing as he always spent it talking with Junmyeon, who ended up getting dehydrated from the heat more times than not, and sometimes with Yifan, when he stopped being intimidating enough to bring his boyfriend a water bottle. Yes, Sehun was a little bit scared of Yifan, but he made sure no one knew.

After all, what kind of Hades’ son would he be if he let some - almost two feet tall - Zeus’ son scare him?

Pfffffft.

See, the problem is that being claimed as a child of Hades wasn’t exactly the best thing that happened to Sehun. Yes, he could summon skeletons, shadow travel and even curse people — like, _real_ curses, though he only did it once when he actually didn’t knew he could do it —, but he also spent most of his time alone, since almost every other camper aside from Junmyeon and a few others were too scared of him to even _try_ maintaining some kind of civilized conversation now and then, much less getting closer to him only to discover that Sehun is the “most harmless son that Hades ever bring into this world”, in the words of the one and only Byun Baekhyun—part time son of Apollo, full time asshole.

Sometimes, he just wished he was the son of someone else, someone _easier_ , although he never said it out loud. Or better, he could be your simplest human specimen, not related to a god whatsoever, and not having to worry constantly about being attacked by the most creative monsters of all Greek mythology.

But no, he had to be the son of the _god of the dead—_ and of the wealth too, but no one cared about this part. _The dead_. Sehun was never a lucky boy, but this one absolutely topped the cake. And he didn’t even get the luxury of having someone with whom he could share his burden. It was just him, the torches fueled by real _greek fire_ , and his coffin-shaped bed. Who thought fucking coffin-shaped beds were a good idea?

“Sehun, can you just, you know, stop with the frowning? Makes you a bit scary.” Junmyeon asked, startling him. Was he frowning? He didn’t notice it. “I mean, for the others. Because I know you’re incapable of hurting a fly.”

“I was just thinking about the beds again. When will this be over? I’ll die if I hear another high note, I swear.” Sehun answered, slouched against his hyung. Junmyeon made a pretty average pillow, considering he worked out regularly. “‘I Am My Own Great-Great-Great-Great Grandpa’ doesn’t even have high notes, you know, the fuckers just put them there so they can compete against each other.”

“You know that Baekhyun and Jongdae are, well… Competitive people?”

Sehun slouched even more, almost crushing tiny Junmyeon under his weight. He just wanted campfire time to be over so that he could go back to his cabin and sleep away the horrors of the day—like seeing Minseok, the cute son of Hermes who was the first one to welcome him when he got into the camp, having his face almost eaten by resident heartthrob and Aphrodite’s favorite son, Luhan.

“Yes, hyung, I know. But why can’t they just— What are you doing?” He frowned again, seeing as Junmyeon was looking somewhere at the other side of the campfire, signing enthusiastically to someone in the crowd.

“Over there, look! I think he wants to talk to you.” He said, pointing straight ahead, where Sehun could clearly see a boy signing back to them as wildly as Junmyeon.

And not just any boy, no. Smiling brightly at Sehun — at _Sehun?_ — from over the flames there was the prettiest, cutest and kindest boy in camp, otherwise known as Kim Jongin; the _other_ favorite son of Aphrodite—Luhan and him used to fight a lot on this specific point, even with Joohyun saying all of Aphrodite’s children are her favorite children.

Anyway, Kim Jongin, surrounded by boys and girls who looked just like they would be  ready to spoon feed-him if he asked, the most beautiful man Sehun had ever laid his scary eyes upon, was actually trying to talk to him. Crazy, right? Like those movies when the image suddenly stops and the narrator says “are you wondering how I got into this situation?”

The difference relies in the fact that Sehun didn't stop. On the contrary, he just ran faster.

“He doesn’t want to talk to me. Why the fuck would he want to talk with me, hyung?” Sehun asked Junmyeon, pointedly ignoring the boy still trying to get his attention.

“I guess the scary eyes act didn't fool him,” Junmyeon answered, finger tapping against his mouth in a poor attempt to look pensive. “Are you _really_ going to leave him hanging there?”

“He's not talking to me. There's no real reason Kim Jongin would want to talk to me, not in a million years,” Sehun said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world — and it was, for him! —, like he wasn’t trying to convince himself of this very same fact, that Junmyeon misunderstood everything, accidentally giving him a tiny flicker of hope.

Because if there was a boy in the camp that Sehun wished he had the courage to talk to, it was Jongin, with his droopy eyes and full lips, looking so much as the picture of sin at the same time he just wanted to sleep a little more. But Jongin was full of friends, admirers, sat at his table every day surrounded by beautiful brothers and sisters, always smiling with his plump lips — very kissable, not that Sehun knows from experience — and white teeth. In the meanwhile, Sehun sat by himself everyday, the only one unlucky enough to have Hades as his god parent. _And a penchant for brooding_ , as Baekhyun always told him, even if he always retorted that he doesn't brood—in a very brooding voice.

But alas, Jongin would never talk to the resident death boy, and Sehun was pretty much okay with that. He definitely didn’t need to make a fool of himself in front of everyone and then use his powers to open the ground so that he could hide there forever.

“I'm pretty sure he's talking to you, Sehun” Junmyeon tried again, but the defeat was palpable in his voice. “And I know how you look at him, so you're wasting an opportunity.”

“An opportunity to what? To have my ass kicked before I say a single word? Thanks, but I’ll pass.”

The campfire was close to its end, anyway. Sehun waited until everyone started singing “This Land Is Minos’s Land” to make his undignified escape, leaving behind a tsk-ing Junmyeon, who was too busy thinking about ways to make Sehun socialize to see him running to his cabin, shoulders hunched while he kicked the pebbles on his way, mind lost in the face of a too beautiful for this world Kim Jongin and the cute pout he made whenever one of his siblings was being mean to him.

Too lost, indeed, to see the same Jongin looking at his back, eyes tinged with dejection as he watched the Hades’ son go away without acknowledging him. Granted, signing at him through the campfire wasn’t one of his best ideas, but he was sure it would work. Everything he does works, after all, so why wouldn’t this follow the same pattern?

Jongin’s eyes were tinged with dejection, yes, but also something else—something which could only be defined as _determination_.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It was Thursday, only half a week after the campfire fiasco, and Sehun was sitting by himself in the dining pavilion again.

Which happens every day, seeing as he is the only son of Hades in the camp, be it all year or summers only, but that doesn’t make it even a little bit less sad. Nor does saying _by himself_ instead of _alone_.

He should be used to it after five years of the same routine every day of the year — the world outside isn’t exactly safe for an orphan son of the Three Big —, of waiting and waiting and waiting for someone as unlucky as him to pop into the camp with a skull hologram floating over their head. He should be used to it, but seeing everyone talking and laughing happily with their godly siblings still leaves a bitter aftertaste in his mouth, even after all these years.

It didn’t matter. The children of Hades are doomed to be alone, and Sehun learned that the hardest way—by being alone himself.

(well, at least he had the cabin all for himself, which means he didn’t need to clean it until it starts to become uninhabitable)

Being like that, the pavilion could be as loud as possible, and still every meal would be a quiet event for Sehun. His father’s table worked like a refuge, and his eyes, as beacons who scare anyone who attempts to come closer. _It’s the fucking scary eyes_ , Tao liked to say, but for Sehun they were all but his normal eyes, and he was all but his normal self—how did he end up scaring even a single fly, he would never know.

And there was Tao, fighting with his siblings over the last piece of meat even with a nayad right behind them, ready to refill their plates and bring temporary peace to the Ares’ table. Baekhyun was laughing loudly with (or at, you can never know) Jongdae at Apollo’s table, hitting anyone who was dumb enough to sit by his side, seemingly unfazed by all the campers staring at him. Junmyeon and Yifan throwing fond glances at each other over Zeus’ and Poseidon’s tables—more like Junmyeon throwing fond glances and Yifan trying to pretend he isn’t affected. Luhan, eating his meal like he was a model in front of the cameras, smiling slightly at his sibling’s playful bickerings while Jongin ate silently—

Wait.

Why wasn’t Jongin at his table? Sehun was sure he was there just a minute ago,  eating with the most bored face in the world while still managing to be breathtakingly beautiful. But then he wasn’t there anymore, and for a brief moment Sehun considered the possibility of being crazy and all of its downsides, before turning his head around the area in a subdued but desperate — can something be subdued and desperate at the same time? — search. He wasn’t crazy.

For the best or for the worst, he didn't have to search for long. Before he knew it, Jongin was in his field of vision again, chatting with a smiling nayad. Oh, he smiled at her too, that blinding smile with perfect teeth. Damn Aphrodite and her perfect children with their perfect everything. Oh, he was walking back to his table now. Wait, why did he pass right through it? Wait. _Wait_. Why the _fuck_ was he coming to the fucking Hades’ table?

(usually, this type of situation requires from sehun the use of certain techniques kindly denominated by his friends as _being a hopeless socially inept demigod_ , or as sehun himself prefers to say, his _three steps for the maintenance of his sanity_. they go as it follows:

  1. if chased by anyone, friend or not, while not wanting to maintain a civil conversation, continue walking forward with a quicker step, as if one isn't being chased.
  2. if still being chased, enter running mode.
  3. if _still_ being chased, open a crevasse on the ground from which skeletons can pour and block the chaser’s path. dangerous: for use only at extreme situations)



He could feel his legs tingling with the need to run, but at the same time they refused to move a single bit, glued to the bench like Sehun was part of the stone. Either way, he mused, while hoping his face didn’t become red as the tomatoes in his salad, because standing up with Jongin being this close to his table would be just plain rude, and he wouldn’t even had the excuse that he didn’t see him coming.

But it’s okay, right? He could handle it. Jongin was probably just passing through, or maybe he wanted to say a quick hi. Oh Sehun could totally handle a very beautiful very charming very cute son of Aphrodite anytime, and this one wasn’t going to be _that_ hard. Or that was what he hoped.

“Hey,” Jongin says, and _gods_ , his voice was quiet and sweet, like eating cotton candy for the first time. Sehun couldn’t find any better comparison to the voice that filled his ears, its owner standing close by his side, cheeks tinted light pink. “Do you mind if I sit here?”

 _Yes,_ Sehun wanted to say. _I might die if you do_.

“No! I mean, I don’t mind. It’s okay if you want to.” Yeah, it was definitely going to be _that_ hard. “It’s just… I mean, can you?”

“Oh, I’ll be quick. Surely Chiron won’t mind,” he answered, with a little smile that left unsaid that Chiron would surely mind, yes. Sehun was way past Chiron, though. He hoped _Hades_ wouldn't mind.

Jongin sat, then, graciously—and even though Sehun is aware that sounded cheesy as fuck, he can't help but observe him while he moved, manicured nails tapping slightly against the stone, lips pursed while he debated about what to say. Sehun did hear of charmspeak before, but he was quite certain Jongin didn’t need his voice to enchant anyone. Just his body.

(and that may seem like sehun only likes jongin for his body, which is not true, he must say. the body is like… like the cherry on top of the cake. the sweet smiles cake. the crinkled eyes cake)

Even though it was Sehun’s time to talk — at least he thinks that when you're in a conversation with someone that how things work. Jongin said something and now it’s his time, right? — he stayed quiet, musing over what could Jongin possibly want to talk so much that he had to sit at the Hades’ table in front of a full pavilion, including Chiron and Mr. D, where it was almost certain everyone would be looking at them.

“Oh, so you eat salad for dinner too? This is great. I thought everyone besides me and my siblings only ate cheeseburgers and coke” Jongin said. Sehun didn't need to be very smart to see that wasn't what he came to talk about. Sure, any time was the time to talk about a healthier lifestyle, and maybe Jongin was just a guy who was passionate about his salad. Sehun wouldn't know—after all, he watched him from afar most of the time.

“Yeah, it’s nice. I guess.”

“Right? Helps a lot if you want to have a smooth skin. Not that you need it, right?”

“Uh…”

Ah, such a pity that Sehun’s tongue refused to work when he needed it the most! But, in his defense, what do you say when someone compliments your skin? Because that would mean Jongin actually spent time observing Sehun’s skin, and that was too much for his tiny dark heart to handle.

“Oh, sorry! I didn’t want to disconcert you or something. It’s just… It seems _really_ smooth,” Jongin said, eyes fixed at the skin of Sehun’s cheek, right where his tiny scar marked his face. “I wonder if…” He started, but seemed to decide that keeping his mouth shut was the better option.

“Th- Thanks? I don't think anyone has ever said something about my skin before, so…” He looked down to his food, unable to maintain eye contact with Jongin any longer. “Thank you.”

The snickers from the other tables were loud as shouts to him, coming from everywhere—even Junmyeon, the betrayer, had a hand covering his mouth. He really couldn’t trust anyone.

At least Jongin was blushing too, lips pursed as if he wanted to say more but his shyness wouldn’t let him. He looked cute, though, nose just slightly scrunched, while Sehun surely looked like a idiot with his face almost hidden between the lettuce.

“You’re cute, Sehun,” Jongin said, voice so low only Sehun could have heard it. He looked up, blushing harder than he ever had done in his life, and found Jongin’s eyes staring right at him, standing his ground even if he was secretly picking at his fingers under the table.

And then he inched closer and closer and closer, until Sehun could feel his breath fanning his cheek and, gods, he wanted to run but he wanted _so much_ to stay, to let things happen for once, instead of turning them way before they even had a chance to be.

(as sehun would learn later, he could never run from jongin)

Baekhyun and Jongdae’s mouths were hanging open by that point, laughter forgotten in face of what they were seeing, and Sehun could not care about the fact that they would haunt him for days with their obnoxious jokes, not when Jongin’s lips were pressing to his cheek, so lightly Sehun wouldn't have noticed if he wasn't so damn focused on what was happening. Fleeting as a butterfly, yes, but the feel of his full lips touching his skin would stay like a shadow in his mind during weeks, filling the back of his eyes wherever he closed them to sleep.

That is, if he survived until the end of this dinner. Which, considering how hard his heart was beating, wasn't very likely.

“I like you,” he said, clearer this time, and Sehun was too busy trying not to faint to process that single piece of information. He felt like he was in a movie scene, and that was the part he was supposed to say _i like you too_ and they would kiss and sail into the sunlight, happily ever after, someplace where they couldn’t hear Chanyeol aggressively cheering from the Dyonisius’ table. “We should spend some time together one of these days, don’t you think?” Were his last words before standing up from the Hades’ table. And then he was leaving, faster than he came, cheeks pink but head held high between his wide shoulders, the shyest and bravest son Aphrodite had ever given birth to.

Sehun’s cheek was positively burning. Hell, his whole face must have been burning by the way Luhan was pointing at him and whispering to his siblings while Jongin swiftly made his way back to his mother’s table, lips turned up in a smile that could power the light in his cabin for _days_.

His cheek was burning and his heart was still beating like it was about to burst, but there was a smile in his lips too, not as beautiful as Jongin’s, not as bright or as powerful, but a smile nonetheless. Sehun was half very happy and half very embarrassed, but he could easily manage that.

Or not—if the way Baekhyun was sending him a thumbs up from the Apollo table and Jongdae was making kissy faces at him, lips puckered to the point he looked like mama duck with his ducklings. Definitely not.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sehun didn’t mind when silly girls stifled their giggles as he passed by, or when boys looked at him with a tingle of jealousy in their eyes. Jongin’s kiss seemed to be permanently etched to his face, tattooed there for everyone in the camp to whisper about, even the ones who hadn’t seen the scene themselves. There wasn’t much to gossip about in the camp on normal days, so it wasn’t so surprising that Jongin and him ended up being the next hot topic.

He wasn’t happy with it, by any means, but hey, if that was the price to pay for having Jongin smiling at him every time their eyes met, he would gladly pay it. With taxes.

He leisurely made his way at the stables, where Chanyeol was already waiting for him. The pegasi loved him with the same force they hated Sehun, so the Dyonisius’ son stepped as his tutor of sorts—except he already knew Sehun and animals in general are a lost cause. He smells like death, after all, and there was nothing that could be done about it.

“There he is!” he shouted right as he saw Sehun turning around the corner, and surely there must be a place in Elysium for the ones with will strong enough not to strangle Chanyeol at the first chance. “Our grown up baby, snatching the best boy in the camp.”

“Shut up,” he hissed, with his most _hell’s spawn_ face. Not that it ever worked. “I didn’t _snatch_ anyone, for gods’ sakes. And I’m not your baby.”

“Keep telling yourself that and one day you’ll end up believing it. But you cannot fool us, maknae. The hyung society knows very well what you’re up to.”

“Well, then please tell the hyung society to stop meddling with my life and get one of their own,” he said, knowing very well that was impossible. They’d rather bicker about his poor life choices than to take care of their own problems.

( _The Hyung Society,_ a hierarchy:

  1. Junmyeon; the leader, the best hyung, the hyung of Sehun’s heart
  2. Yifan; the second-in-command, scary faced hyung who won his place by bribing the best hyung with kisses
  3. Minseok; the laid back hyung, or also the _i know what you’re feeling, kid_ hyung
  4. Yixing; the _here’s my shoulder if you want to cry, kid_ hyung
  5. Baekhyun and Jongdae; the idiot hyungs Sehun loves too much for his own good
  6. Chanyeol; the obnoxious loud-ass hyung who Sehun can’t seem to spend a day without
  7. Sehun, the not-hyung)



“I didn’t change your diapers for you to treat me this way! C’mon,” he said, doing the puppy eyes. Chanyeol, being the human version of Clifford, the big red dog, had a very convincing set of puppy eyes. “The way you look at him just isn’t more obvious than the way _he_ looks at _you_ , you know. There’s clearly something going on, and I could give you some… _Tips._ ”

“Thanks hyung, but I think I’ll pass. I don’t want Jongin to hate my sorry ass for the rest of my life.”

“Kyungsoo doesn’t hate me! Just so you know, we were actually talking like the two civilized beings that we are yesterday. He told some of the things Jongin tells him. Very interesting things. About a gloomy Hades’ son.”

(it was a lost battle and they both knew it)

“Gods, I hate you,” Sehun said, slumping against the marble column that sustained the stables. Why couldn’t Kyungsoo keep kicking Chanyeol ass? “Spill it.”

“ _Aha!_ Seems like I have the power of bargain now. Very well, my dear dongsaeng.” He sat beside Sehun, fishing an apple from the bucket he always brought when spending time with the horses—they needed the double of treats to keep their teeth away from Sehun’s dainty fingers. “First, you tell me what is inside this little heart of yours. Then I’ll spill _everything_.”

What was inside his _very dark_ heart (thank you)? Not even Sehun knew it, not with the clarity necessary to put it into words, comprehensible sentences, an ode to Jongin’s nose bump. His mind was a mess of thoughts that wanted to tumble out of his tongue into the world and thoughts that wanted to stay hidden until after he's long dead and gone. The only clear thing was that he would kill to have Jongin’s lips against his skin again, the soft press against his cheek like a lover’s caress.

The only thing Sehun knows is that he _wants_.

“I don’t know, hyung. I like him, I guess?” he started, picking a tangerine too, just to have something in his hands. “It’s complicated. Every time he looks at me I feel like I’m going to spontaneously burst. I want to be close to him, talk to him, touch him. I don’t remember feeling this way for anyone else.” No, not even when he kinda had a crush on Yixing—that time just after he pierced his bottom lip and Sehun used to spend all his time wondering how would it feel against his own. “This is so stupid. He’s an angel and I’m, like, the moodiest person I’ve ever met.”

When he looked up, Chanyeol had his goofiest smile plastered in his face. He looked at Sehun like he was a child that just then discovered the most obvious thing in the world. And maybe he was right.

“Sehun-ah, you’re really a grown up now, huh?” Chanyeol said, ruffling Sehun’s hair the way they used to do when he had just gotten into the camp, a small and skittish boy sleeping by the feet of Minseok’s bed in the Hermes cabin. Seemed like ages ago. “You’re _in love_ , idiot. So obviously in love is actually hurting me to hear you talk.”

“Fuck off, I’m not in love. I just like him. I have, like, a crush on him or something,” Sehun said, biting the tangerine so he could busy his mouth with something other than making a dozen excuses that would just make the situation worse. “Like you had on Yifan hyung, remember?”

“Exactly, little man. I had a _crush_ on Yifan hyung — and that was a long time ago, just stop bringing it up at every opportunity — so I know how crushes work. And you definitely don’t have just a crush on Jongin,” he said, in his best imitation of Hitch, the dating consultant. Truth was that Chanyeol was even more hopeless than Sehun in romantic affairs. He thought saying Kyungsoo was _squishy_ was a good way to tell him he was adorable. Figures. “I wanted to kiss Yifan and, like, _be intimate_ with him, but i didn’t go all mushy talking about him like you just did. It was more, I don’t know, fragile? Like, I wanted him to be with me, but it was fine if he didn’t, you know. It was wishful thinking.”

Sehun hummed along, pleased that Chanyeol story diverted the attention from his own. “So didn’t you get a little sad when he started dating Junmyeon hyung?”

“Nope. It was more like ‘ah, such a pity he didn’t like me the same way, but that’s okay’. And thinking about it now, I’m actually glad he chose Junmyeon hyung over me. He frowns too much and he doesn’t seem the type of guy who would appreciate me trying to smother his wrinkles.”

Laughter slipped from between Sehun’s lips before he could catch it, and he and Chanyeol ended up lying in the grass, uncaring of anyone who might pass through them and see the scene. They wouldn’t be best friends if they didn’t do embarrassing shit together, after all.

“Hyung. Hyung, stop laughing,” Sehun said, a little breathless still, hitting lightly on Chanyeol’s arm so that his friend would pay him attention. “You didn’t tell me what Kyungsoo hyung told you. About Jongin.”

“Oh, you know, seeing as you only have a crush on him, I don’t really need to tell you that.”

He said that winking, the fucker, and Sehun didn’t have another option other than using his hidden maknae charms—as much as they tainted his _grumpy son of Hades_ image.

“Hyuuuuung, please. You promised me. How can you do this to me? I’m the baby of the group,” he whined, seeing the effect almost immediate in Chanyeol features. There’s nothing in which they rejoiced more than forcing out his true baby brother nature. “You can’t do this to your maknae, it’s too mean.”

“Okay, you big baby. Sit tight and try not to die on me.”

And Sehun tried, but man, it was hard. He listened with rapt attention every word that came out of Chanyeol’s mouth, everything Kyungsoo told him not to tell anyone, but there he was, telling Sehun.

(they wouldn’t be best friends if, after all)

He began, as always, telling how beautiful Kyungsoo was when they met, and how he wanted to pinch his cheeks and kiss him at the same time. Oh, those beautiful lips… He could probably spend the whole afternoon talking about Kyungsoo’s lips, but Sehun started to not so discreetly sigh, and Chanyeol got it. He proceeded to give Sehun a detailed explanation about Kim Jongin’s expectations for their relationship—which didn’t exist _yet_ , he says.

“According to Kyungsoo — and I don’t think Kyungsoo would joke about that, really — Jongin got his eyes on you a long time ago. Like, _months_. But you were always by yourself looking all dark and edgy or with us, looking dark and edgy and tired, so he never quite worked up the courage to talk to you. Until, well, Thursday. And he was supposed to talk with you some more but he freaked out after kissing your cheek. That wasn’t planned,” he said, hand scratching his chin like he morphed into the thinking emoji. “Anyways, he likes you and you like him, which mean you two should kiss.”

Sehun, pardon him, could only gasp.

“What? The fuck. This doesn’t make any sense. Why would he like me? Why did he need to _work up courage_ to talk to me? He’s a son of Aphrodite, these things aren’t easy for them or something? Did he think I would like, _reject_ him? How could I when I’ve been _dying_ for him this whole time?” It didn't make any sense to him. Couldn't Jongin sense that he was also in love with him or something like that? Weren't Aphrodite children supposed to know everything about love?

Chanyeol looked pretty much unfazed about his outburst. “Kyungsoo didn't say anything else. Only that Jongin thinks you're beautiful and loves your eyebrows, but this doesn't matter now. You _need_ to talk to him,” he said, seeming pretty certain of what he was saying. Like it was easy. “And being a son of Aphrodite can mean that he loves easily, but did you ever think that maybe he loves _more?_ ”

“Are you sure, hyung? I don't want to look stupid,” Sehun asked, picking at the grass until the blades scratched his fingers. He always thought he was that awkward, lonely kid, and being a son of Hades didn't happen at all with the image he had of himself. So what did Jongin saw in him? “I mean, I guess I like him, like, a lot.  And I don't want to fuck things up.”

“Come here, young man.” Chanyeol rolled closer to his side, laying his head on Sehun’s firm thighs. “You need to be yourself. Remember Jongin likes moody and scary eyed Sehun, not a _cool_ or _improved_ version of yourself. You two are young, it's okay if you don't get it right in the beginning, Jongin probably isn't the dating expert either—he's pretty shy for a child of Aphrodite. You can learn with each other.”

“You think so?”

“Trust me, maknae. Your hyung knows what he's talking about.”

“I didn't see you dating anyone in, like, two years.”

“I only stay in camp at the summer so you wouldn't know!” Chanyeol exclaimed, fake hurt in his voice, pinching Sehun’s thigh after. “Get up, you have horses to be friendly to.”

“But hyung,” he standed, whining. Jongdae would have cursed the fact he couldn’'t have a phone in camp to record the moment. “The pegasi hate me.”

Chanyeol didn’t pay him any mind. “If you made Kim Jongin like you, I’m sure you can repeat the feat with some winged horses.”

Sehun resigned himself to picking up apples so he could at least still have his fingers by the end of the day. “I hate you!” he shouted, Chanyeol already inside the stables, but there wasn’t a single drop of bite in it.

 

 

* * *

 

 

So maybe Sehun wasn’t the greatest enthusiast of the campfire and most of the other camp’s activities — he scorched himself on the climbing wall more times than he could count —, but if there was anything in the whole demigod experience that he really looked forward too, it was capture the flag.

Junmyeon and Chanyeol used to argue that it was because those were the only moments when Sehun let his Hades’ child nature take over—even though maiming was forbidden, and the possibility of it when being attacked by skeleton soldiers was pretty high. It didn’t matter. Sehun chased the feel of adrenaline coursing through his veins while he sneaked in between unsuspected opponents, feet not leaving any trail behind him—after all, life made him an expert in being unseen, and he sure took advantage from that.

That time, he was together with Junmyeon, Yifan — the children of the three big all in one team? Nothing good could come out from that —, and the Apollo cabin, all under the Ares cabin and, ultimately, Tao’s command. In the other side of the war, Hermes, Demeter, Athena and Dionysus cabins were in a temporary alliance led by — surprisingly — the Aphrodite cabin.

It was the first time in a year that her children held the laurels, and they had to thank Luhan’s ability to singlehanded charm the entirety of the Ares cabin and stroll casually to where the banner was being displayed. There was this common knowledge that Aphrodite’s children spent all their time gossiping instead of helping their teams, but Luhan? He was positively vicious. No wonder Minseok hyung was head over heels for him.

(jongin, also, was vicious)

But most important: Tao wanted revenge.

“You see that twink, you send him to Hades, understood? Especially you, Sehun. You go by the river, me and my siblings will sneak by the forest. Junmyeon and Kris hold the banner. Apollo cabin, border patrol.” Tao said to their whole team, the red plume in his helmet moving while he paced in front of them. “They won’t last long this time. Just yank Luhan’s hair when you find him and we’ll be good. That banner is ours already. Red team, forward!”

They cheered and hit their shields with the swords, fighting to make the most annoying sound before scattering themselves in the south woods. Sehun’s job was always the same—he was fast, he was strong and he liked to fight. The top three qualities of a proper demigod, according to Tao. As such, he was bestowed the honorable task of actually capturing the banner. Not that he minded. Truth is that he wouldn’t want anything else.

He waited for the blow of the conch horn to start making his way across the river, always close to the trees, using their foliage as cover. He didn’t see anyone anyone for a good time — excluding Chanyeol, whom he had to give a nasty whack at the head, nothing personal —, walking mostly unbothered. Kyungsoo and the other children of Athena probably told Luhan to station more soldiers at the border of the forest, from where Tao and another Ares warriors were coming. Sehun couldn’t blame them.

It did make his task easier, but also boring. He hoped to find at least two or three campers close to the banner and put his muscles to use. They needed it.

What he _didn’t_ expect was the arrow that came flying from the sky and pierced the ground right in front of his new shoes.

“Careful there!” someone shouted. Sehun looked at his back, his sides, the river, before turning his head up and finding a figure perched in a branch, almost invisible by this side. He couldn’t see the face very well, but he could recognize that voice anywhere.

It was Jongin.

“You know I could have aimed that at your head, right?” he asked, smiling brightly at Sehun. The blue plume in his helmet made him look like a greek warrior of the old tales, beautiful and deadly. Sehun liked it.

“And why didn't you?” Sehun asked, genuinely surprised. Jongin didn't take capture the flag lightly, and for him not to strike Sehun on spot only meant he had a very intricate plan going on.

Jongin hopped off the branch, but his landing wasn't one of the best. One foot before the other, and his face would've met the floor in the most undignified way hadn't Sehun caught him. “I don't like the idea of potentially scarring a beautiful face. And thanks, by the way.”

Sehun blushed. Which was fine, because Jongin was blushing too. He really did blush a lot for a son of the goddess of love.

“Well, thank you too. So…” _Be social. Engage in conversation. Smile. Don't make the scary eyes_. “Protecting the banner, I guess?”

“Oh, yeah, you could say that. I'm supposed to put an arrow on any red plume that comes across.” He seemed to have an internal debate with himself before extending his hand and plucking the red plume from Sehun’s helmet. “Thank the gods you're not one of them.”

This boy. Sehun really was in love with him.

“Yeah, of course. I was just. You know. Taking a stroll”, he said, scratching at the back of his neck. This socializing thing didn't come easy to him. “I totally didn't come here to, like, take your banner or something.”

“Great! That means we can—” He looked around while saying that, searching for another camper who could potentially disturb them. “talk.”

“Right, talk! I've been wanting to, you know.” Sehun licked his lips, suddenly pretty much aware he didn't know what he was supposed to say. “But I figured you didn't want to.”

“Me? I thought that day in the pavilion was demonstration enough of what I wanted.” _Sorry,_ Sehun wanted to say. _I'm dense._ “I told you I liked you, didn't I? It's true. I _really_ like you, and I wasn't comfortable with keeping this bottled up anymore. But it's okay if you don't feel the same, I'll just—”

“Why me?” Sehun interrupted him, looking down at the arrow between his feet. “I just mop all day? And everyone says I have scary eyes, so… There's a lot of people much more… Pleasant than me. And any of them would want you.”

Jongin looked at him like he was one of the delicate flowers that growed up in the white pot by his windowsill. “Oh, Sehun. I guess being a son of Aphrodite made me understand love is much more complicated than we think. We don't choose who we love; it just blossoms and withers at its own way. And you have to cherish it while it lasts. That's what I'm trying to do.” He touched Sehun’s chin with the tip of his finger, urging the son of Hades to look up. “But it is really hard to do it alone. And who knows, I might suffer from a deadly attraction to moping boys.”

With the hand that wasn't still on Sehun’s face, he touched his fingers, intertwining them lightly enough that Sehun could back away if he wanted. But he didn't.

“So, this isn't a prank or something? Like that tradition of breaking someone's heart?”

“Prank you and risk having the ground open itself under my feet? I wouldn't dare,” he laughed, the clear sound twinkling against the trees surrounding them. “Also, that tradition is bullshit. Some of us were idiots in the past, I can't deny that, but most Aphrodite’s children wouldn't play with what we hold most dear.” His tone was serious, different that the sweet Jongin he always was, as if he wanted Sehun to be a hundred percent sure he wasn't lying.

Luckily for him, Sehun has been wanting to believe in that for a long time.

“What do you say? Care to…  try and see if we can work this out?”

Sehun inhaled deeply before answering. “Yeah.” Exhale. Inhale again. Breathe. Live. “Yeah, I would like it. A lot. I would love it. I just… I don't know where to begin.”

“Oh, don't worry. See that arrow between your feet?” Jongin pointed at the shaft lodged in the middle of them. “I might as well have shot you with it—It would've been very easy. But I didn't, right? Don't you think I deserve a reward for that?”

“A reward?” Sehun asked, playing along, if only because he knew very well where that was going to end and he needed a little time to calm the heart fluttering wildly against his ribs. “What type of reward?”

“Oh, I don't know. There's so many things I would like to have,” he sighed, as if there were a myriad of options to choose. “I guess a kiss would be quite nice.”

Sehun was looking down again, but the smile gracing his lips was unmistakable. “Are you sure? I'm afraid there are no refunds for this type of reward.”

“I'm pretty sure. After all, I've been wanting it for _months_. Please, sir, if you could make haste, I have a banner to guard.”

Sehun raised his face, meeting Jongin eyes, which seemed to shine alight with mirth and something else—something that wasn't love, not yet, but might as well become it.

He spent countless days wanting, hoping, even if there was something at the back of his mind saying that it was all for nothing. That he was quiet and awkward and scary, a son of Hades though and through, in a world full of children with sparkling smiles and smart remarks. He was resigned with wanting from afar; with dreaming, but never touching.

And then there he was, hand in Jongin’s warm cheek, lips so close their breaths mingled between them, so close Sehun could feel the strong beating of Jongin’s heart pressed to his chest, the drumming song filling his ears until it was the only thing he could hear.

It was Jongin who kissed him.

It was Jongin who pressed their lips together—his own so deliciously soft again Sehun’s, tasting like ripe pomegranate and cinnamon, sweet just like him. It was him who moved his hand to Sehun’s hip, a light pressure to ground him there. But it was Sehun who nudged his lips with his tongue, seeking more, the sugary taste of something before thought as the most impossible dream. It was Sehun who moved his hand from Jongin’s cheek to his hair, burying his finger into the soft brown locks until he felt that nothing could take them away from this moment. Not even if the gods themselves wanted.

And when they broke apart for air, moments later, he could see Jongin smiling even as he tried to catch his breath, the hand that was previously only touching his own holding it like he never wanted to let go.

(and by the styx, unless he is the one that wants it, sehun will never let him go)

“That was quite a nice reward. I know you don't make refunds, but…” he said, cheeks flushed by their kiss. “Maybe a repeat?”

“For you, I wouldn't mind at all.”

“Good. You might as well prepare those lips of yours.” Jongin put a step of distance between them, the cold air of the night replacing his warmth and making Sehun shiver. “While you do that, I believe the banner is not far away from here. Yixing is the other guard, but I suppose he's busy talking with the dryads to actually do his job.”

Ah, yes, the game. Sehun had forgotten about it, and wasn't _that_ excited to play anymore. “I don't know… Don't you think we could find better things to do than fighting over a stupid piece of cloth?”

Jongin laughed. Sehun decided he wanted to die with that sound in his ears. “We could, but I think the laurel wreath will contrast nicely against your hair. And what can I say? I love beautiful things.”

“Meet me at the back of my cabin after this is over?”

“I wouldn't miss it for the world,” he said, giving Sehun a light peck before the son of Hades started running in the direction he pointed to, and he climbed the tree again, all the while feeling rumbling in his chest the beating of his own heart.

(later, when sehun was being raised in the shoulders of his friends, wreath rightfully nested in his mess of black hair, jongin waited until their eyes crossed and winked—sehun couldn't help but smile back at him

no one noticed the redness on their lips)

 

 

* * *

 

 

They decided to keep it a secret. Not that there was much to tell, anyway. Mostly, they sneaked away when everyone was singing at the campfire and spent the hour kissing mouths, necks, collarbones, but never below that. They also didn't want to deal with the mass of deadly stares that will surely accompany Sehun for a while, the downside of dating the boy _everyone_ loved, not just him. Jongin was okay with it, for the time being. He said it was fine as long they both knew what they're doing. Love doesn't mind waiting a little bit.

Imagine, then, Sehun’s surprise when someone knocked on his door in the middle of the afternoon - since the only people that came see him were his friends, and they never knocked -, four hits in quick succession. He considered not answering it, pretending to be dead - aha! - or at least sleeping. But no one would come annoy him and risk being attacked by a horde of skeleton soldiers, right?

He hoped so.

Imagine, _then_ , his surprise, when behind the door there was no one else than Kim Jongin, smiling like he had just won the lottery.

“Hey!” he said, not caring if anyone would see him there. “Are you busy?”

“No. Why?”

“Do you mind if I come in?” he asked, and for a moment Sehun wanted to say _yes_ , if only so the two campers looking at them and whispering would go away. But Jongin didn’t deserve that, and neither did he. Hell, they certainly wouldn’t keep it a secret for long, not with Jongin’s penchant of touching his thighs whenever he could. He nodded and let him in.

As expected, Jongin took some time looking at the very particular decoration. Especially the coffin beds.

“You know, I thought you cabin would be dark and, you know, _dark_ in the deeper sense of the word, not just in color. But this,” he spinned around, plopping down on one of the beds. “This has greatly surpassed my expectations.”

Sehun sat next to him, his hand gently holding Jongin’s ankle. “Well, welcome to my life, I guess.”

“Oh, _of course_ a son of Hades would listen to Simple Plan. I don’t know why I’m surprised.

“I don’t listen to it! It was only for the dramatic effect,” he said, but the smile gracing Jongin’s face didn’t let him lie. “Ok, I might have been a fan of them, but it was a long time ago, I swear.”

Jongin ran his hands over the soft sheets, closing his eyes for a little bit. “Are you sure you aren’t a vampire or something? This looks like somewhere Dracula would like to sleep in. And your lights are torches with _greek fire_ in them. This could become the biggest ambiental hazard ever.”

Sehun couldn’t help but play along. “I don’t know. Maybe you should let me bite you and see.”

He could swear by his life he didn’t mean it like that. Vampires bite people without sexual intentions, don’t they? And Jongin just asked if he is a vampire so why was he smiling like he’s got a secret and why are Sehun’s cheeks getting warmer? Isn’t Jongin supposed to be the shy one?

But he couldn’t deny the idea of biting Jongin crossed his mind more than once, mostly at night, when he came back from their escapades thinking about all the things they couldn't do without risk being caught.

The tanned column of his neck chanted to Sehun like a siren’s call, something he didn't know he needed until then. He wanted to smell it, taste it. Mark it, even.

“Go ahead, then.” Jongin said, exposing his neck until it made a graceful arch. His voice turned to sweet and calm to low and deep, messing with Sehun’s mind. With his eyes closed, he made the prettiest picture Sehun had ever seen—but not even the thought of preserving that for eternity could have stopped him.

He kissed Jongin’s cheek first, delighting in the feeling of having the other sighing under him, and started his slow descent—lips, jawline, chin, until the got to the smooth expanse of his neck. He heard Jongin hold his breath and smiled, lips pressed against the skin so that Jongin could feel it too.

It started with little kisses in a straight line until the base of his neck, and then back again, teasing—not that Sehun knew how to tease properly, but practice makes perfect, doesn't it? He grazed his teeth over Jongin’s pulse point, feeling the other squirm under him, before finally capturing the soft flesh between his teeth.

When he judged it was more than enough time to have left a mark, he licked over the place — the red already started to show, making way for the low feeling that settled in his gut — and sat straight to admire his work, touching the warm skin around it with the tips of his fingers.

“Looks pretty on you,” Sehun said after, when his mind was somewhat clearer. Jongin’s fingers joined his own, tracing the bruise and then pressing just a tiny bit, to feel it there.

“No blood,” he said, smiling and slightly red. “You're no vampire.”

“I guess?”

“Sweet.” Jongin sat up, throwing his legs around Sehun until he was sitting at his lap. Sehun tried not to scream. “My turn now.”

He didn't give Sehun a chance to prepare himself before fully kissing his lips, deeper than they had ever kissed before. Little moans escaped by Sehun’s mouth before he could try to suppress them.

Instead of one big mark, as did Sehun, Jongin peppered his neck with love bites, small marks contrasting against the white of his skin everywhere, to the point not even the world's biggest scarf could hide them all—and it was _summer._ He couldn't wear a scarf even if he wanted.

(sehun wanted to mark jongin, but jongin wanted everyone to _see_ sehun was marked by him)

Suddenly, it was _very hot_ inside the cabin. Or maybe Sehun was just an hormonal teenager with his boyfriend sitting on his lap, biting his neck, and that was messing with his perception of temperature. Either way, it was hot, and he had an urge to take his shirt off. Jongin’s shirt too.

Nothing could have prepared him for the literal inferno he felt when Jongin _grinded_ on him, though. The moan that came out of his mouth was definitely heard by any passerby unlucky enough to be close to the Hades’ cabin at the moment, and that made his face heat up—in arousal or in shame, he didn't want to know.

“Sorry,” he said when Jongin let go of his neck long enough that he was once again capable of forming coherent sentences. “I didn't want to— It’s just that you, you know—”

“Sehun,” Jongin said, shutting him up, even if their faces were the same shade of red, noses touching with the proximity. Sehun could see every tiny detail on Jongin’s face, and he didn't find anything he didn't love. “That was hot. Like, really hot. Can you do it again?”

“Well…  If you do _that_ again, I guess I can.”

“Oh, silly,” said he, fingers grazing Sehun’s chest under his tee. “I'm going to do so much more than grind on you.”

That being said, Sehun didn't have a vast sexual experience that he could brag of. He wasn't a virgin, either, but the only sexual partner he had ever was Zitao, and they both started hooking up as virgins, so it wasn't a good path to learn how to be a sex god by any way. They didn't even fuck that many times, to be honest, preferring to stay just as friends before they ended up mentally scarred for life. Ah, he blew Baekhyun off, once, but they both liked to pretend that didn't happen—Sehun promised himself to never _ever_ get drunk again.

All in all, that left him in a pretty disadvantaged position against Jongin. Not that he knew if Jongin slept around often, and even if he didn't, he was a son of Aphrodite, the fucking goddess of love, beauty and _pleasure_. Knowing how to fuck properly was in Jongin’s puberty pack.

(he hoped aphrodite would help him not to disappoint her favorite son)

But he didn't dwell in that for long, not with Jongin’s mouth on his jaw and his fingers lower, lower and lower, until they reached the waistband of his sweatpants—why did he had to be wearing sweatpants that day? They made his already growing erection painfully obvious.

“Can I?” Jongin asked, eyes fixed on the visible bulge Sehun was sporting. The tip of his tongue was visible between his plump lips, and Sehun wanted to scream _yes_ ten thousand times over, but he couldn't open his mouth, so he only nodded.

He slowly pulled Sehun’s pants down to his knees, almost if he was giving him the chance to back off and hide beneath his blanket, before tracing the muscles of Sehun’s thighs with his fingers, up and up until he stopped right beside his cock.

“I want to blow you,” he said, sounding the surest Sehun had ever heard him, more even than when he asked a kiss as reward. He didn't process that at the moment, though, to wrapped up in the world _blow_ and the image of Jongin’s full lips stretched around his cock. He whimpered. “And then… Then I want you to fuck me, okay?”

It was more than okay. “Yes, yes. Just…” he gulped, looking down at where Jongin’s hand was, or better, where it _wasn't_. “Fuck it.” And he took his hand with his own before putting it right on his cock, pressing hard before moaning again, louder than before.

Jongin was quick to answer his prayers. He traced the shape of Sehun’s dick with his hand, feeling him over his boxers until there was a damp spot in them. With his free hand, he patted Sehun’s thigh, telling him to raise them up so that he could take his underwear off, and threw them at the other side of the room, along with his pants.

Sehun’s cock was almost fully erect by then, curving against his belly, the head pink and wet. Jongin wrapped his hand loosely around it, tugging lightly and savoring Sehun’s whimpers before dropping to his knees in front of him.

“Fuck,” Sehun said, moaning as Jongin licked a wet stripe from the base of his cock to the tip, sucking the head and flicking his tongue at the slit. Sehun wanted so bad to grab Jongin’s hair and pull it to see his reaction, but he contented himself with twisting the sheets between his fingers until his knuckles turned white.

Without warning, Jongin started taking him deeper, inch by inch until more than half of Sehun’s cock was engulfed by his mouth, resting against his tongue while his hand covered what his lips could not reach. Sehun had to use all his strength to not just thrust in his mouth, savoring the heat that surrounded him, especially when Jongin hollowed his cheeks and moaned, sending vibrations all around Sehun.

He felt the orgasm building up behind his balls as Jongin bobbed his head up and down, tongue skillfully licking his shaft, when, as sudden as it began, the heat ended, leaving his dick exposed to the cold air in the cabin. A tug at his arms made him open his eyes and see Jongin standing in front of him, cheeks red and lips shiny, trying to take his shirt off.

“You’re still dressed,” Sehun observed when he was finally naked, chest heaving with the continuous effort to catch his breath after what had happened.

“Don't you think you should be doing something about it?” Jongin asked, but Sehun was popping his button open before he finished the sentence, helping him with the arduous task of taking his skinny jeans off.

Jongin’s body was a work of art, and that may sound cheesy, or hopelessly in love — aren't those the same thing? — but Sehun never saw anything more beautiful, starting from the planes of his abdomen and the light brown shade of his nipples, the defined muscles of his thighs and the cock nestled between them, standing hard and red without even being touched—and it was Sehun who left him like this.

(he kinda wanted to blow it. and sit on it. definitely sit on it, but that could wait for the next time)

“Come here,” he said, almost a whisper, and Jongin came, moving like a mirage, sitting on his lap, the friction on both their cocks making them moan in unison. Sehun’s hand went to his hip as he manoeuvred them on the bed, laying Jongin on the mattress while he stayed on top of him, marveling at the way his lips shined with spit and something else. “Don't move.”

As quickly as he could, he got up and found a condom and his trusty bottle of lube, hidden beneath his clothes. When he came back, Jongin’s hand was loosely wrapped around his erection, moving slowly. Sehun wished he could take a picture.

“Please,” he asked, opening his legs so that Sehun could sit between them. Sehun would be lying if he said he knew how to do it well—it was Tao’s job most of the time, but he would also be damned if he would let that prevent him of doing a good ass job there.

He poured lube into his fingers, grazing them against Jongin’s hole while his other hand gently stroked his thigh, helping him relax. When Jongin opened his legs a little more, Sehun breached him with his index finger, only the tip first, feeling the walls clamping around him as he went deeper. Under him, Jongin breathed through his mouth. His eyes were almost closed, but he was trying to keep them open so that he could see Sehun’s face as he felt him inside.

“Another one,” he demanded, and Sehun, even if he wanted to take everything slow so that it could burn into his memory for forever, obliged, scissoring both his middle and index finger inside him, stretching Jongin so that he would open up nicely for his cock. He tried crooking them, searching for his prostate with every thrust until he heard the tell-tale scream.

“Fuck! Right there,” he half-said, half-moaned, his eyes now fully closed while his hips moved in slow circles, fucking himself on Sehun’s fingers. “More. Please, fuck me, Sehun. I’m ready.”

Every word that came out of his mouth made Sehun’s cock swell more, if that was possible, so much it started to hurt. He needed to touch it, he needed to bury himself inside Jongin and feel them both together already. He took his fingers out of him just to thrust in again with three, hitting his prostate in quick succession and then scissoring him a little more, just to be sure.

His fingers trembled when he picked up the condom, but he managed — gods know how — to tear up the package and roll it in his aching dick without tearing it. When Sehun looked up, he found Jongin looking at him, his eyes shining in anticipation and lips turned up in a little smile. Sehun looked at him in question, and he nodded, wrapping his legs around the other’s waist so that his ankles rested just atop of his ass, bringing him closer and closer, Sehun’s cock sliding against his entrance and then the head nudging him slightly, almost as if asking him to open up before finally entering him, an inch at once, the pace driving both of them crazy.

“Please,” Jongin whined. Instead of answering, Sehun bent over and kissed him, driving his dick deeper, no finesse in the way their tongues moved along each other. He kept moving slowly until he bottomed out, his balls flush against the smooth skin of Jongin’s ass, his cock lodged so tightly inside of him he might have screamed if he wasn’t so focused on keeping still.

He felt Jongin’s breath hitting his cheek, gradually coming back to normal — or what can be considered normal when you have a penis inside you —, and then he circled Sehun’s shoulders with his arms, finding somewhere to hold himself into before whispering into his ear. “Move.”

Now, Sehun couldn’t leave him waiting, could he?

He slided almost all the way out before burying himself again, the lube making the way smooth as it could be, his cock filling Jongin while their grunts and moans filled the cabin. It felt so different than the other times, that anything else he had ever felt before, like that was where he was supposed to be, Jongin’s nails raking his back, leaving trails that would stand proudly for weeks, a testament to the force with which Sehun’s hips drove in and out of him, the slick sound of skin on skin, Jongin’s cock trapped between their bodies, seeking friction on his torso with each movement.

“Touch yourself,” Sehun said, getting messier with each thrust to the point he wasn’t caring if he hit Jongin’s prostate any longer, digging his fingers in the supple flesh of his butt while he kissed him again—Jongin’s knuckles grazing against his belly as he touched himself, and gods, how much he wanted to see Jongin’s face when he came, how much he wanted to hear him screaming his name. “Come for me, Jongin. Come, baby, you’re so tight, so good. Come for me.”

Three more thrusts and a bite on his neck had Jongin spilling white all over their stomachs, Sehun’s name on his lips while he rode his orgasm with trembling hands and thighs, slacked out under Sehun, who kept thrusting as quickly as he could, white exploding behind his eyes when Jongin, in a last bout of energy, clenched his muscles around him and made him come, filling the condom with one last thrust.

He fell against Jongin’s sweaty chest, his mind hazed and blank, only the soft thud of a heart under him keeping him awake. He felt like he could sleep until eternity—and maybe some more if Jongin stayed with him.

“Hey,” a little voice resounded inside Sehun’s head when he was more than halfway into the land of dreams. He opened his eyes to the feeling of Jongin’s hands of his hair, threading softly between the messy locks. Just like an angel. “You okay?”

“Never better,” he answered, snuggling more against Jongin’s chest. “And you?”

“I’m great, too.”

They fell into silence again, and Sehun considered going to sleep that way, like a koala, covering Jongin’s body with his own. It felt perfect, even with the hip bones digging in his stomach, and the come drying between their— okay, maybe they should clean themselves before sleeping.

It was with a great deal of effort that Sehun disentangled his body from Jongin’s, who kept trying to held him in place. He used a clean towel to wipe them, first Jongin and then him, and then lay down again, this time on the other side of bed, his head hidden in the crook of the tanned boy’s neck.

“Are you tired?” Jongin asked, to which Sehun answered with a yawn. “Pity. I wanted a second round.”

“I’m not tired!” came the shout muffled in his skin, Sehun’s lips kissing the mark he left there. When he raised his head so they were both eye level, Jongin could not fathom how anyone in this camp could classify Sehun’s eyes as scary. They were the gentlest he had ever seen. “Maybe a little bit, but you can always tire me a little more.”

Jongin laughed. “Well then, how about you lie down here and let me do the work this time?”

Sehun had never heard anything better.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Campfire time is always the best time of the day if you’re a great singer, drunk, or popular enough to be surrounded by friends. Sehun wasn’t any of that, but it didn’t matter to him—not when he could enjoy an hour snuggling against his boyfriend, resting his head against his shoulder and eating all the s’mores his belly could handle (he couldn’t deny them with Jongin feeding him by hand). They sat together with his friends that time, who laughed and bantered as they picked at the two lovebirds, who absolutely didn’t care about that.

“Chanyeollie,” Baekhyun shouted over the song, to which he abstained from singing so he could annoy Sehun a little more. “I’m _so_ hungry. I want a s’more _so bad_.”

“Don’t worry!,” Chanyeol smiled, picking the bowl from where it was forgotten and putting it on his lap. “Here, take it.”

“Oh, I don’t know, I’m so tired. Couldn’t you, you know…” he winked to Chanyeol, totally not discreet, but then, Baekhyun couldn’t be discreet even when he tried. “ _Hand-feed_ me?”

Sehun sighed.

“Hand-feed you? Oh. Oh!” exclaimed Chanyeol, his smile literally taking half of his face. “Of course, my dear, my light! Why don’t you lay your head on my shoulder, huh?”

“It would be my pleasure, love.”

While Sehun could only roll his eyes, well used to his friends jests, Jongin’s whole body shook with laughter, to the point he managed to choke on a s’more.

“Sorry!” Baekhyun said when Sehun’s eyes landed on him, his face positively murderous while he gave Jongin’s back light hits to let him breathe again. “It’s just that you are cute together, and well… Maybe too _together_ , if you get my meaning. Ten times worse than Junmyeon and Yifan.”

“But Junmyeon hyung and Yifan hyung are old!” Sehun whined, followed by a _hey!_ in the unmistakable tone Junmyeon used when outraged. “Besides, Minseok hyung and Luhan are worst.”

Jongin, breathing soundly again, could only agree. “Luhan hyung moans Minseok’s name while he sleeps.”

A chorus of groans followed that information. “Dude, we totally didn’t need to know that,” said Jongdae, face twisted in fake agony.

“What, you don’t moan my name when you sleep?” Sehun asked, his inquisitive tone making him sound serious, but his lips trembling to hold a smile gave him way easily. “I’m hurt.”

“Jongin, don’t answer that!” Junmyeon shouted from where he was, sitting between Yifan long legs. “I didn’t raised you all to talk about moaning at the campfire. Go sing.”

He should’ve know better than tell them to sing. In less than a minute, the whole camp followed Baekhyun’s lead, and the lyrics to “This Land is Minos’ Land” filled the hill, with Jongdae providing all the melody they needed.

“Sehun,” Jongin whispered, having to come close enough to Sehun’s ear that he was more sitting on his lap than on the ground. “I moan your name when I sleep, but I like it way more when you make me moan it awake.”

“Oh, you’re _so_ fucked later, Kim Jongin.”

“Great,” he said, capturing Sehun’s lips in a kiss, the song and the camp and everything else forgotten while their tongues slid against each other. And for the briefest of moments, a tiny flicker in the big thread of destiny, the world was made only of the two of them.

**Author's Note:**

> throw me some tomatoes @ [twitter](https://twitter.com/sekaix1ng)


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